Gotta Be Somebody
by Cerez
Summary: Last night might have been beautiful while Kurt was drunk, but he was sober now and the horrible truth was that he had waited 21 years of his life to experience magic and he had thrown it all away to screw some random guy he picked up at a bar.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Kurt, Blaine, or any other characters from **_**Glee**_**.**

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><p>Kurt supposed that he had brought the beautiful boy (man?) with the curly hair home with him because he had been feeling particularly pathetic and sorry for himself last night, which, incidentally, had also been his birthday. But it was hard not to feel pathetic at the realization that at 21 years of age, Kurt Hummel had still not kissed a single person.<p>

He had survived through years of bullying, had finally gotten out of Lima and into New York City to pursue his dreams of lighting up Broadway with Rachel, but he still hadn't kissed one single person. As far as Kurt was concerned, what he liked to call 'The Brittany Debacle' absolutely did not count. Nor did the kiss Dave had forced him into.

Kurt supposed that since he had moved to New York there had certainly been plenty of chances to kiss people. There were a great deal more 'out' gay men in New York City than there had been in Lima, Ohio, that was for damn sure. And Kurt couldn't have picked a better city to experience something as magical as a first kiss. But that was the problem. Kurt wanted magical. And no one he had met so far made him feel that way. He was the not-so-proud owner of a rather large collection of kissless first dates that never led to second dates.

He had it all planned out in his head, you know - The Kiss. It all included an eight PM showing of something amazing on Broadway, a white rose, a nighttime ride in a horse drawn carriage, a beautiful, amazing man, and a sweet first kiss with feather light touches to the cheek and soft sighs.

And after all of that careful planning and daydreaming, Kurt's first kiss hadn't exactly happened that way. And by not exactly, he meant not at all.

As he had said, coming to the realization on your 21st birthday that you had never been kissed kind of totally sucked. It wasn't as if he had woken up the morning of his birthday and finally realized: _Hey! I've never kissed anyone! Time to check that bitch off the good ole Bucket List! _No, that would have been ridiculous. He always _knew_ he had never been kissed. That sort of thing didn't just creep up on a person. It was always there. But somehow turning 21 had really cemented the sad fact in his mind.

His baby penguin status suckage aside, however, his party had been pretty amazing. Rachel had planned it and she invited all their closet theater friends. Mercedes had driven down from upstate to join in on the festivities and Kurt had proceeded to get a little drunk. Not too drunk, but drunk enough to feel pretty depressed after everyone had gone home for the night (oddly enough, the world apparently did _not_ evolve around Kurt Hummel and classes would resume the next day). So in his slightly drunken state, Kurt had left his apartment in a cab in search of a bar and had proceeded to get properly hammered once he got there.

He had been halfway through his third tequila (he abhorred the taste but couldn't stop drinking it for some reason) when Blaine Anderson dropped into the seat next to him looking tired and maybe even slightly broken down.

Their conversation had gone something like this:

"I'm Kurt."

Blaine offered him a dreamy smile. "It's nice to meet you, Kurt. I'm Blaine Anderson."

"So polite," Kurt observed. "Very proper."

Blaine scowled as if Kurt's observation upset him. "I don't want to be proper. Not tonight."

"In that case, you could kiss me. That way you get to be improper and I get to have my first kiss."

He hadn't even asked if Blaine was gay. Come to think if it, Kurt thought as he stared down at the naked man (boy?) beside him, Kurt _still _didn't know if Blaine was gay despite the fact that apparently they had sex last night, if their nakedness was any sort of indication.

But Kurt was getting ahead of himself.

At Kurt's suggestion of a kiss, Blaine had looked at him for a second, obviously unsure what to make of his current situation, but he must have decided that he didn't much care in the end, because he had leaned in, whispered, "Okay," when his pink lips were only a hairsbreadth away and kissed Kurt.

If Kurt had been asked to describe the taste of Blaine's mouth, he really wouldn't have anything to say other than 'amazing'. Because it was true: Blaine Anderson, and his mouth's nameless taste, tasted absolutely amazing.

Very clearly, Kurt could remember getting up from his stool at the sticky bar and tangling his hands into Blaine's enticingly _grabbable_ curlyhair and baring his body down on Blaine's. Blaine had moaned into their kiss, obviously not minding that Kurt had taken complete control of it and hooked his ankles around the back of Kurt's knees to pull Kurt in closer.

The bartender's hand slapped loudly against the polished wood of the bar's tabletop and Kurt and Blaine startled apart. "Hey, will you two knock that shit off? There's a fucking fag bar right down the street you can do that at. Jesus."

But before Kurt had the chance to feel the sting of shame, Blaine glared at the man and opened his mouth to say, "Fuck you."

Kurt got the feeling it wasn't something Blaine said often. Perhaps never, even.

The bartender's face contorted with disgust. "I'm a man, buddy. That means I fuck women, not other men. Now get the fuck out of my goddamn bar."

"With pleasure," Blaine retorted as he dipped into his pocket with one hand (the other was still stuffed inside Kurt's back pocket) and pulled out a wad of cash. He threw it in the bartender's face. "C'mon, Kurt," Blaine said, gently pushing Kurt away from him so he could stand up. He took Kurt's hand and held it as they exited the bar.

After that, the details got a bit hazy. Kurt vaguely remembered stopping every so often on the way back to his apartment to drunkenly kiss Blaine against random buildings and streetlights.

He recalled Blaine's sweet smile as they sat together on Kurt's bed in a tangle of naked, sweaty limbs, kissing and touching and exploring each other's bodies as each one learned how to make the other moan. And finally, Kurt remembered the awed look on Blaine's face when Kurt first entered him. Blaine had been sitting on Kurt's lap with his legs wrapped around Kurt's waist, one arm curled around Kurt's neck, and his hand clutching at the back of Kurt's head. Their mouths had been open and unmoving but still pressed close together as they shared each other's breath.

And now it was the morning after and Kurt had woken up to find this naked _stranger_ sleeping in the space next to him. There was a gentle smile on Blaine's face, and Kurt might have stopped to appreciate how sweet he looked that way had it not been for the tears that were blurring Kurt's vision. Because last night might have been beautiful while Kurt was drunk, but he was sober now and the horrible truth was that he had waited 21 years of his life to experience magic and he had thrown it all away to fuck some random guy he picked up at a bar.

Kurt realized then that he was still naked and he shot out of bed to pull something - _anything_ - on before Blaine could wake up and see him exposed. He pulled on the first pair of pants he got his hands on only to realize that they weren't his, which meant that they must be Blaine's and Kurt ripped them off and threw them at the wall.

Blaine woke up. "Hey," he said groggily as he smiled sleepily at Kurt.

"Oh god," Kurt shuddered, feeling a fresh wave of tears coming on. He spun around, looking frantically around for something to wear. He could feel the heat of Blaine's stare on his naked back. "I can't find my fucking pants," he whispered just as a sob forced its way past his lips and his stomach churned with shame. He was humiliated. He had never felt so exposed in his entire life. It was a cheap feeling and he absolutely hated it.

"Please don't look at me," he whispered, feeling like a randy teenager caught with his pants down at his ankles, which was just stupid since if Kurt actually _had_ pants at his ankles, he would be in a lot better shape. He could only imagine what he must look like to the person in his bed. Ridiculous, probably.

The rustle of the bed sheets, which was usually a soft, lazy sound, exploded in his ears like the most destructive bomb. And then the sounds of feet padding on the floor… they were so much worse. If the world ever decided to split in two, the noise wouldn't have been half as loud as those gently padding feet. Kurt tensed as the naked stranger from his bed drew closer.

And then…

A sheet wrapped itself around Kurt's waist. Kurt looked down at it dumbly, not sure what to make of it. Two strong, male hands were holding it in place. Blaine must have gone through some trouble to hold the sheet there without so much as the tiniest brush of his skin against Kurt's. Slowly, Kurt reached down to hold onto the sheet and relieve Blaine of the burden of doing it himself. Blaine's hands fell away.

"Do you want me to go?" Blaine asked softly from behind Kurt.

"I don't know," was Kurt's immediate response. He kept his eyes fixed on a small crack on the wall in front of him. He had never noticed it before.

Blaine was silent for a moment. He didn't move from his place directly behind Kurt. "How about I get dressed and then I'll go sit in the kitchen. I'll wait ten minutes. If you decide that you want to talk, you can come out and we'll talk. If not, after ten minutes, I'll leave and you never have to see me again."

Without waiting for a response, Blaine silently dressed and slipped out of the room without so much as a pressuring glance in Kurt's direction. Kurt kept his eyes fixed on that crack on the wall for exactly eight minutes (he would glance the clock every thirty seconds or so), and then as if in a panic, he dropped the sheet and bolted to his closet. He grabbed the first pair of pants he saw and stuffed his legs into them (he wondered why he hadn't thought of going to his closet when he was freaking out over the fact that he couldn't find his pants), then he grabbed a shirt and threw that on just as fast (for the first time in his life he didn't care if it matched) and rushed into his kitchen.

Blaine was sitting at Kurt's kitchen table, his eyes fixed at the stove clock. When Kurt came in Blaine gave him an uncertain smile. "Hi," he said.

With his heart beating like mad, Kurt slowly walked to the table and sat down at the opposite end. "Hi."

Blaine smiled a smile that was more like a grimace. "This is a little awkward. I guess we should start with the basics. I remember your name is Kurt. Do you remember mine?" he asked in a way that let Kurt know that if he didn't remember it, Blaine wouldn't hold it against him.

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt said.

Blaine smiled for real this time. "Good memory."

"Not good enough," Kurt muttered to himself. Suddenly his hands felt horribly empty. He needed something to fidget with. "Can I get you some coffee?" he asked Blaine.

"No, thank you, I'm alright."

Well, damn it. He wondered whether or not it would be especially rude to make a cup for himself when his… guest? one night stand? just sat there not drinking.

Thanks to Blaine, Kurt didn't have to wonder for long.

"But if you're thirsty, you can make yourself some. I'm not in any rush."

Kurt's right eyebrow twitched. "Umm. Okay." He stood up.

Neither spoke as Kurt made himself a cup of hazelnut coffee. Not for the first time, he praised himself for buying the instant coffee maker despite the small expense it ran up. He was especially grateful to have it on this particular morning. Within minutes, he returned to his seat with streaming cup of coffee in hand. He set it down on the table, poised and ready to be fidgeted with should he feel the need.

Blaine broke the silence. "Hazelnut?" he guessed.

Kurt nodded.

Blaine managed a weak smile. Kurt was beginning to notice that Blaine had quite a few smiles at his disposal. "Look," Blaine said, "I've never done anything like this before." He winced. "The whole one night stand thing."

"Me neither," Kurt said quietly.

Blaine took a deep breath. "Were you serious last night? About the first kiss thing?"

Kurt's fingers tightened around his mug handle. "Yes," he said to his coffee before raising it to his lips and sucking down a scalding gulp of the bittersweet liquid.

"So, then you were a…"

"A virgin, yes," Kurt snapped.

"O-oh," Blaine said, obviously not knowing quite how he was supposed to deal with that.

"I'm assuming you weren't?" Kurt asked. He took another scalding gulp. At this rate he would be finished way before he was ready to. But that was no matter, he would just make another cup. In fact, maybe the sooner he had an excuse to get up again, the better. He took two more gulps.

"No… I wasn't," Blaine said in a quiet voice. "I've had sex before. But I'm clean."

Jesus fuck, they hadn't used a condom had they?

Kurt downed the rest of his coffee and quickly got to his feet.

"How do you know?" Kurt asked as he set to work on making another cup. It took entirely too little time before the mug was full once more and the only thing left for him to do was sit back down at the table. He scowled at his coffee maker. _Fucker_, he called it.

"I… my boyfriend," Blaine frowned, "Or _ex_-boyfriend, I should say, Jeremiah... He cheated on me. I got tested last week."

_Great,_ Kurt thought. _The rebound guy. He was probably thinking of _Jeremy_ the whole time I had my dick up his ass. I think I would have rather been his gay-speriment._

Blaine frowned at the table. "So… are you… umm… clean?"

"Yes," Kurt answered. He and Rachel gave blood a lot.

Blaine nodded. "That's good to know." Then he smiled again. This one was guilty.

Another thing Kurt was starting to notice about Blaine's smiles? All of them were absolutely adorable in the most annoying way.

And then Blaine stole Kurt's breath away.

"I don't know how to say this, Kurt. But I'm so sorry." He looked like he really meant it, too, damn him. "I'm so sorry your first time happened the way it did. You don't know me and I don't know you. A person's first experience with sex should be with someone special. Someone they cherish. And I'm not that person for you, so I'm sorry that I took that away from you. I know this probably won't help, but, for me, last night was one of the most beautiful nights of my life. I can't explain it. But you made me feel something. So I don't take what you gave up to me lightly. And I'm still sorry I took it, but I'll probably cherish it for the rest of my life."

No words.

There were absolutely no words to respond to that.

Hell, Kurt didn't even know what to _think_ about it, much lass how to respond verbally to it.

So Kurt just sat there staring at Blaine as if he had just beamed into Kurt's kitchen from some unpronounceable street on Mars.

Blaine's next smile was encouraging. "If any of that scares you, I understand, and I'll leave if you want me to. But if not, I'd like to maybe take you out to breakfast, and if it's okay, I'd like to give you a proper first kiss."

"O-okay," Kurt whispered.

"Okay to the first date or the first kiss?" Blaine asked with a smile that was only slightly nervous.

"Both," Kurt answered.

Just before Blaine kissed him, Blaine gave Kurt one final smile. It was the sweetest thing Kurt had ever seen.

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><p><strong>AN: **

**And there you have it. **

**I just finished reading **_**The Book Thief**_** by Markus Zusak and after crying my frickin eyes out, I needed to do something to unwind. This story is the end result. **

**To those of you who are currently reading my Hogwarts Klaine story and are wondering why I wrote this bit of randomness instead of updating that, I assure you an update IS coming. Soon. If you haven't read it and those types of stories interest you, check it out!**

**If not, I hope you all enjoyed this. I really liked writing it and I would love to hear what you thought of it.**

**And in case anyone was wondering, the title came from the Nickleback's "Gotta Be Somebody". It seemed fitting for this story and it kept playing in my head as I was writing it.  
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